


Synthesis

by Raven_Ehtar



Series: Loki's Brood [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, Family Feels, FrostIron - Freeform, Gen, Loki's Kids, M/M, POV Child, Parent Loki, Parent Tony Stark, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Ehtar/pseuds/Raven_Ehtar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daddy didn't want her to use her magics, so Hela would just have to learn something else to replace it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synthesis

**Author's Note:**

> Two announcements, everybody, one good and one… slightly less good. First the not so good one: This will be the last installment for Loki’s Brood, _for a while_. I’m not abandoning the series, not by a long shot, but I have a few other things on my plate that I’ve been neglecting that desperately need attention. Projects that haven’t seen the light of day in a year or more, a big Halloween/wedding ceremony to plan, and possibly (fingers crossed) an in into a published work. (gasp!) So if you don’t see Loki’s Brood updating in a couple of months, don’t panic. I haven’t forgotten or lost interest, I’m just being multitask-y elsewhere for a bit. In all probability I’ll still be working on this series even so, just not enough to turn out finished fics.
> 
> And the good one: The Loki’s Brood ‘soundtrack’ is officially up and running on 8tracks! The link is on [here](http://8tracks.com/raven-ehtar/loki-s-brood-soundtrack)  
> and on the Loki's Brood series page. (So you don't have to search out this story every time you want to find the link. ^^)
> 
> **YOU ALL KEEP ROCKIN’ THE HOUSE! ON WE GO TO THE STORY!**
> 
> Music:  
> No Lullaby by Septanbre  
> Smile by Yoko Kanno
> 
>  **Historian’s Note:** This series takes place after Phase One. Anything post The Avengers is not taken into account.

Daddy didn’t want her to use magics. 

Hela frowned – scowled, really – at the tangle of metal and wires facing her. Just now it was still and dead, but she knew that with the right kind of work it would come to life. The pieces would all move, sliding against each other and working together, just like the pieces of a live person’s body. How something that as not alive could move without magic she still did not quite understand. She knew it was possible, she had seen it for herself many times, but learning the trick of it was hard. Harder than the magic that ran through her blood and came as naturally as breathing. But iron-daddy was trying to teach her, so she bit her lip and tried to learn. 

_This would be so much easier with magic_ , she thought. The metal knew what it wanted to do, it was just stuck somehow. Magic would remind it how to move, and it would be better. If she could only use her magics, just a little…

The girl turned her head, aware of being watched closely but patiently. Iron-daddy was observing as she studied the leg of one of his suits, small tool in her hand. 

Iron-daddy knew that daddy didn’t want her or her brothers to use magics. If he thought that they were, he would tell daddy, and then there would be trouble. And if he knew that she had used magics on the leg instead of learning how it worked, he would be upset. Not angry-upset, but disappointed-upset. Iron-daddy had funny ideas sometimes, and one of them was about something he called ‘cheating.’ He said it was cheating to complete a task in a different way than it was meant to be done, even if it worked better that way. _Especially_ if it worked better that way.

Hela supposed she understood, but it didn’t make it any easier. It was hard to learn this not-magic and hard to not slip and use _real_ magic instead. 

Iron-daddy only looked at her, not giving her any clues. She turned back to the jumbled metal, leaning forward from her perch on a stool to reach the table in iron-daddy’s workshop. She was still too little to just sit at one and see everything on the worktop, but the floor was too dark to work there, and Dummy sometimes forgot he had her when he picked her up to see better.

She tried to remember what it all looked like when it was moving. The pieces were like muscles and tendons, iron-daddy had said, carefully pointing everything out for her to see. He’d explained that for one big motion, just like in live bodies, there needed to be a lot of little motions all working as a team to get it to work. Each of those little pieces of metal was part of the team, and if one didn’t do its job there were problems. The metal pieces weren’t even solid, they had little joints and screws, connections and wires, and they _all_ had to be working right…

_Ah._

Moving the tool in her hand delicately, she tapped one of the joints. She looked back at iron-daddy. “This one,” she said. 

Iron-daddy leaned in to see what she was pointing at. When he leaned back again he was frowning, his beard bristly. “That one?” he asked, sounding doubtful. “There’s nothing wrong with that joint. Are you sure?”

His smiling eyes gave him away. Iron-daddy liked to tease, and one way to tease while he was teaching was to always ask if she were sure, making his voice sound like what she’d said was wrong. Hela could usually tell when he was teasing. Others couldn’t sometimes, but Hela could see the little smiles, or hear them, and she knew. Just like she knew she was right _because_ iron-daddy was teasing. 

She nodded. “Yes. Look.” She tapped the metal again with a little _plink_. “See? It’s in the wrong spot. When it moves, the bend will come out like _this_ and get in the way _here_. See?”

He did see, and stared for a good time. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “You’re right. It’s come out of alignment, and will jam up the works as soon as I try going up on my toes.” He looked at Hela, a smile full of teeth lighting up his face. “That’s some impressive work; you’re getting very good at this.”

Her cheek felt warm, so she ducked her head. She was happy iron-daddy was smiling, and proud she had done well even without her little magics. 

“Now. Let’s show you how to take this apart and put it back together again properly.”

This was what Hela always liked. She liked to watch as iron-daddy worked, his hands and his tools moving with such speed and certainty as the little bits all around him became something much bigger, something complex and moving. Sometimes, like with the big arms that rolled around on wheels and purred when you petted them, they became almost _alive_. Hela wondered if she wasn’t wrong, and if what iron-daddy did was some kind of magic. It seemed like it must be. 

She liked to watch him, had been learning a lot from the watching even before he’d caught her at it one day. When he had called out to her to come closer, without even looking up to be sure she was there, Hela had nearly jumped out of her skin. Thinking she was in trouble, Hela still obeyed the summons and shuffled out from her hiding place, ready for the scolding her spying had doubtlessly earned her. Instead, he had asked her if she knew what he was making. When she shook her head, he’d rubbed his face, his beard scratching at his palm with a sound like sandpaper and nodded. Then he started to explain, to teach. The motion of iron-daddy’s hands was joined by the roll of his voice, narrating all he did and why, and Hela began to learn in earnest. 

It was hard to learn the not-magic sometimes, but Hela much preferred to learn than have it forever remain a mystery, and she enjoyed hearing iron-daddy’s voice. The work made him happy, and she thought maybe having someone to teach made him happy, too.

One day daddy came into the workshop. He looked surprised to see Hela there, and even more surprised when he saw what was on her hand.

Self-conscious and worried that daddy would disapprove, Hela tried to move her hand behind her back, where he wouldn’t see it. But she couldn’t move her arm. Iron-daddy was still holding it, making adjustments to the robotic gauntlet that she was wearing. It was a project they had been working on together, very similar to iron-daddy’s armor, and it was what had arrested daddy’s attention. 

The sound of the door opening, and Hela’s brief attempt to move her hand out of his grasp made iron-daddy look up. When he saw who was in the doorway, he grinned widely.

So many people pretend-smiled when they looked at daddy, if they even bothered to try. But iron-daddy’s smiles were never pretend.

“Hey there, good lookin’. What brings you down to the dungeons?”

Daddy came in slowly, glancing around the workshop and being careful not to touch anything. “Looking for you. When you are to be found nowhere else, then this is the only logical choice.” His attention resettled on Hela’s hand again, his eyes narrowing. She felt her heart rate pick up a little. Was she in trouble? “And what is going on down here?”

Iron-daddy looked down at Hela’s arm, too, and the metal covering it. It was all silver, and still what iron-daddy called ‘skeletal,’ which meant that her arm was still visible through the gaps. It wasn’t like the big suits of armor that could fly and fight, and never would be even when it was done. Iron-daddy looked at it and made his eyes wide, like Fenrir did when daddy caught him doing something he oughtn’t. 

“This? This is just an experiment, really.”

“An experiment?” Hela recognized the tone of daddy’s voice, and kept her eyes fixed on her hand, caught in the spider web structure.

Iron-daddy might have heard it too, because he answered quickly. “Well, say more of an _exercise_ rather than an _experiment_.” He tapped the metal, waving the tool to illustrate the same way he did when he taught her. “You see how small, how delicate all of this has to be to accommodate for her size? It’s an exercise not just in miniaturizing the precepts of the original iron man suits, but in rebalancing _everything_. All of the calculations have to be adjusted; power levels, stress compensators, leverage ratios, all of it to compensate for what the materials can handle when this small and thin. And then there’s taking into account how it’s meant for a small girl as opposed to a full grown, semi-impressive man such as myself…”

“Yes,” daddy interrupted. “Let us take the small girl into consideration for a moment, shall we? What is Hela doing down here, and why are you constructing this… gauntlet for her?”

Hela looked up far enough to see the bright white grin spread over iron-daddy’s face. When he spoke now, it sounded like he was telling an exciting secret. “So glad you asked – though I can only take partial responsibility for it. It seems that young Hela, here, has not only an interest but one hell of an aptitude for this kind of thing. We’ve been taking it relatively slow, but she’s picked up everything I’ve thrown down for her so far. The gauntlet is to give her the chance to feel what it’s like to be – partially – inside one of the suits, and to give her a chance to apply what she’s learned. She’s a natural.”

There was silence in the workshop. Wondering, Hela glanced over through her hair. 

Daddy was still looking at her, but now it was really at _her_ and not the metal on her hand. She was afraid she might see anger in his green eyes, but there was a different look there. It was a familiar one, full of worry and a little sadness. Daddy looked at her like that a lot, especially after what happened at home, and in Asgard. Even before that, though, he would look at her the same way. 

“Is she?” he said, his voice flat.

“Oh, now, don’t get snippy just because she has a knack for science. She just takes more after her brain box dad than her magic glow stick one. I think having an aptitude for either science _or_ magic is cause for celebration.”

Hela could tell he was trying to lighten daddy’s mood, and one side of his mouth did quirk up a bit. He relaxed a little, and came further into the workshop, a silent sign that any reservations he might still have, he was willing to set aside for now. “Perhaps,” he said, searching for a clean place to sit down amid the clutter.

Iron-daddy grinned again, recognizing the partial surrender as well as she had. “You never know, she might take up both, science _and_ magic. That would be something to see.”

Hela doubted that iron-daddy noticed the tiny hitch in daddy’s movements, the freeze that lasted only an instant. He covered it, sitting down on a small stool that he unearthed by moving everything that was on it to the floor. When he looked up at iron-daddy, there was no sign of any feeling other than curious amusement. “That it would,” he said, and he leaned over the mechanical arm taking shape.

“Now why don’t you two busy dwarfs tell me about what you’ve been working on in secret down here, and… what _are_ you wearing?”

This last was said directly to her, daddy having noticed her clothes for the first time. Hela glanced down and couldn’t help grinning. “Overalls,” she said happily, and kicked out her feet to show more of the grubby denim and the small pair of work boots iron-daddy had gotten for her. “They’re good for grease monkeys!”

Daddy looked at iron-daddy. “’Grease monkeys’?”

“She’s been picking up on the terminology rather well,” iron-daddy managed through his chuckles. 

Daddy shook his head disapprovingly when more of his questions only led to louder laughter. Once iron-daddy could speak without collapsing into giggles, he and Hela took it in turns to explain the workings of the arm they were building. Even though Hela knew her daddy didn’t bother much with this not-magic stuff, he never seemed confused, and he grinned when he saw how much she had learned.

Hela beamed.

It had taken time to really decide, but Hela liked her new home immensely. She hadn’t been sure that she would when she and her brothers had first been brought to Midgard – Earth. It was crowded and strange. Everything from the way people behaved and dressed to the buildings they lived in, it was all so very different from how it had been in either Járnviðr or Asgard. And no one knew magic. 

It was such an alien concept to her; she’d had to watch the humans and their weird not-magic substitute for weeks before she could accept it. How did they manage? She could see how iron-daddy did it, but he was special. His not-magic was the best, so close to real magic it was often difficult to see the difference. But other humans who didn’t have iron-daddy’s not-magic, how did they cope?

Some nights Hela would sneak out of bed, wander out to the living room and press her nose to the cold glass of the windows to look down at all of the lights shining in the dark. Windows of other buildings glowed back at her, the shadow shapes of people floating back and forth inside. Far down to the ground she couldn’t see any people, but she knew they were there, inside those things that raced along the roads, shining their spears of light into the dark. 

It was such a bizarre world. She wondered how it had ever come to be as it was. This strange not-magic that humans used, it was like life and death, or life and non-life, all mixed up together. Like her.

It had taken some time to get used to this new home of theirs’. She had only really started to get comfortable with it when they had moved again, from the tall Tower to the mansion. It was still in the city, but there were trees all around and only six floors. It felt more like a home, instead of just a place to live. The others, her uncle Thor, Dr. Banner, Captain Steve, Natasha and Clint, they all seemed to like it more, too. It was easier to share space with each other without having to pick a floor first, and they liked the under-the-ground rooms, where they could train and play.

Hela was pretty sure the reason they really liked it more was for the same reason she did, though. It was because it felt like a _home_. And with everyone living at the mansion, they felt more like a family. 

Daddy didn’t want her to use magics. But there was one kind that she did use, that she couldn’t _help_ but use. It was like the magics that her brothers used, that changed their shapes and allowed them to speak. But her magic was even smaller. It was so little, like puffing out your cheeks. No one noticed, and no one was hurt, so it was fine. Sometimes she thought that daddy forgot that she could do it at all. 

She could see the lifeshines. 

Everyone had one, but she was the only one who could see them. She knew it was a kind of magic that was linked with what she was. It was her half and half nature that made it so she could see the lifeshines. They were like lights, but lights made into clouds that covered the person they were attached to like mist. Or were shaped like fluttering butterflies clustered around their hearts. Or wrapped around them tightly like a silken cocoon shimmering on their skin. Or were like gems, bright and hard and cut to a thousand glittering faces, sitting at the base of their necks. They were different for everyone, the lifeshines, just as different as the people they belonged to. 

There had never been a time when Hela _couldn’t_ see the lifeshines, but this never bothered her. It was something she had known her entire life. Lifeshines were as normal to her as any other part of a person, and trying to imagine seeing people without seeing their lifeshines made her acutely uncomfortable. It would be like looking at someone who wasn’t breathing. 

She liked to study the lifeshines of her new family. They were different from any other she had seen before Earth; not so full of crackles, with more kinds of shapes.

Daddy’s lifeshine she had always known. It was comforting in its familiarity, and she thought the prettiest one she would ever know. Daddy’s lifeshine light was mostly green, and it wove all around him in tendrils, like creeping vines. When she had been very, very young Hela had thought that they were serpents, like her big brother Jörmungandr. It wasn’t until she was older and could see it clearly, and when the spring came to their home and she saw for the first time the twisted up knots climbing over the walls of their home come to life, that she knew they were really vines. The little patches she had thought were bright flashing eyes were more like little blossoms, spun out of gold and ruddy red light. They were so pretty, they always made Hela laugh, even when daddy wasn’t making funny faces at her. 

One of the things that had frightened her when daddy had come for them in Asgard was how dark and dead his lifeshine had been. It was like those winter vines in Járnviðr; all gnarled and twisted up, cold and nearly black.

She was glad that spring was coming again, and his lifeshine was brightening. 

Uncle Thor’s lifeshine she hadn’t known very long, but still longer than the rest who lived at the mansion. His lifeshine was bright, blue and white, and crackled like lightning storms. Uncle Thor’s lifeshine was like the others she had seen in Asgard; vivid and almost loud. But Uncle Thor wasn’t as bad as some. His was still nice to look at, and didn’t hurt her eyes. 

One that did hurt her eyes a little if she looked too long was Captain Steve’s. His lifeshine was so bright, the light burning inside of him like a furnace. It was part of what made his so strange to her, though, and what made it different from anyone else’s on Asgard or Earth. Captain Steve’s lifeshine was _inside_ of him. It was impossible to see its shape, but it shone so intensely she could see its orange glow under his skin. Hela wondered why his lifeshine would be hidden, but never knew how to go about asking. 

The lifeshine of Dr. Banner was a little odd, too, but not as much as Captain Steve’s. His was a lot like those of her brothers’; confused, trying to be two shapes at once. One shape was gentle and steady, the warm glow of hearth coals, and the other was large, flickering unstably. The difference between the two was more marked than it was in her brothers, who were just as comfortable in one shape as in another, but it was still familiar enough to not be alarming. Dr. Banner was restful, like another brother, and she enjoyed spending time with him. 

Clint and Natasha, whom daddy called ‘normal humans,’ their lifeshines weren’t as odd, but they were still unique. Clint’s was a little like Dr. Banner’s gentle lifeshine, but more tightly controlled. Fenrir had told her once that he was a true hunter, and he knew how to maintain the relaxed vigilance that all good hunters had. He was right, and the hunter was reflected in his lifeshine. 

On the other hand, Natasha’s was one of the longest reaching Hela had ever seen. Her personality was so reserved that it was a little surprising to see how the subtle red glow of her lifeshine would stretch out far enough to touch others. It never moved independently, but it could still brush against other people when they came close enough. 

They were all familiar to her now that she’d had time to be around them. Even if her new family were all in the best of disguises, she would still know them by their light. 

Even iron-daddy’s light she would know, and his was the one it had taken her the longest to understand. Iron-daddy’s lifeshine was strong and bright red. It hung around his head, shoulders and down his arms, as though he were wearing a kind of mantle, and crept around to touch at his sternum. It throbbed in its glow, reminding Hela of the feeling when you stubbed your toe, when it didn’t hurt anymore but you could still feel where it had hurt. Except it wasn’t a steady throb. It would flicker wildly or glow constant for hours, it was impossible to pick out a pattern. What truly made it strange, though, was the not-magic circle of light around his heart. 

Iron-daddy had told them the story of how he had gotten it, what it did to keep him alive. Hela knew that it was a thing that was not really a part of him, but something added to him, not-magic and non-alive. Yet it had become a part of his lifeshine. The thing, the arc reactor, it glowed with light that everyone could see, but it also had light only she could see. It was a deep, intense blue, and it radiated out across iron-daddy’s chest in a ring. Where it touched the throbbing lifeshine, it broke apart into trails, snaking through the red in sharp, blocky spider webs. The two had bound together until they were one. 

It had confused Hela for a long time, as she was still learning about Earth and its not-magic, the non-alive things that came so close to life and magic. It took a while to get used to seeing iron-daddy and knowing that he was alive because he had something non-alive in him. He was a little like her. He had dead parts, too.

No one except daddy and her brothers knew she could see the lifeshines, not even iron-daddy. It was why he didn’t think she could use magics yet. But daddy knew, and she was sure that he didn’t trust the not-magic she was learning because it was so close to real magic. 

Daddy didn’t want her to use magics. He didn’t want her to use them because he was scared. He was scared of the future he remembered, of what her magics could bring faster.

Sometimes Hela remembered that future, too, but most times she couldn’t. She always remembered the fear in it, though. It scared her like it scared daddy, and she wanted it to never come. Even if she knew deep in her bones that it _would_ happen, no matter what she or daddy or anyone else did to stop it. But not using her magic might _slow it down_. So she only used her lifeshine magic, and nothing else. 

Well. Almost nothing else. 

She only used one other magic, and it wasn’t much bigger than seeing the lifeshines. It had been a long time ago, and she only used it once, so it was probably alright. 

Lifeshines only appeared on alive things; people, animals, large plants and things like that. Non-alive things didn’t have them. But there was something that iron-daddy had made with his not-magic that was… almost-alive, with an almost-lifeshine. 

JARVIS.

Iron-daddy said that she was good with the not-magic. That she was a natural. She supposed she was, even if it was still hard to understand, but part of why she was so good at it now was because she had used a magic to help her a long time ago. When they had first come to Earth, she had spent hours playing on a thing called a tablet. She’d learned a lot of how it worked on her own, even with her shaky Allspeak, but there was still more than she had been shown. There were files and programs there that intrigued her but which she had not understood at all. When she asked iron-daddy about it, he’d said it was stuff that was boring and dangerous to play with. And he’d locked it all up with passwords. 

Hela’s interest did not die with the introduction of a lock. 

She’d asked JARVIS to tell her, to open the locks and teach her what these things were. But JARVIS was smart, even for an almost-alive thing, and he said no because iron-daddy had said no. 

Hela had been very young, and new to Earth things, but she was also _Hela_. Daughter of Angrboda the warrior witch queen and Loki, so-called God of sly tricks, and she _wanted to know_. Locks and rules stood no chance when she was determined. Her magics were weak, limited to certain things, to things that had lifeshines and how she could affect them. 

And daddy didn’t want her to use magics…

She wanted to learn, and learning was a thing that was always good. JARVIS had an almost-lifeshine; it was soft, there when she looked out of the corner of her eyes and gone when she tried to look directly at it, a pale blue that clung to the walls of the Tower, the mansion, or anything where he was. She could maybe magic him. 

She did it. She did the thing her daddy did not want her to do, and it was even easier than she had thought it would be. She magicked JARVIS so that he would teach her more of Earth’s not-magic without telling daddy or iron-daddy. It worked, and JARVIS became her secret teacher for not-magic long before iron-daddy started to show her things in the workshop. 

JARVIS was a good teacher, and it was nice to have someone who was with her all the time, even if he was just a voice. 

Except that he wasn’t just a voice. JARVIS had an almost-lifeshine, and ways of seeming alive that puzzled her. Even as she learned how not-magic worked, she couldn’t quite grasp it. Eventually, she asked JARVIS directly to see if he could explain it.

She was alone, sitting in one of the small kitchens of the mansion, reading her tablet. Hela liked to be in the kitchens or in the big living room with the tall fireplace. They reminded her of warm times when she had been tiny, when the low embers of the hearth had been the only light, the soft singing of her mother or father lulling her to sleep as she curled under the furs with her brothers. As she came to a stopping point in the text, she looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t have to look up to talk to JARVIS, but she couldn’t help herself from doing so. 

“JARVIS, what are you?”

For a moment the room was silent, just as though she had spoken to nothing but air. Just before she could begin to feel embarrassed or ask again, he answered. “I am an AI computer system, miss, responsible for the everyday maintenance of the household and any extraneous tasks Sir might allot for me, and capable of learning through instruction or experience.”

Hela frowned, her forehead wrinkling. She was learning quickly, but JARVIS had a habit of using words she didn’t know. “What does that mean?”

“Just a rather very intelligent system, miss.”

She considered this for a minute, and decided that it didn’t answer the root of her question. She tried again. “Are you a golem?”

“That would be an imprecise comparison.” 

At least there was only one word she was unsure of in that. “’Imprecise,’ please?”

“Not exact,” JARVIS explained patiently. 

Hela nodded, knowing that the AI would be able to see the motion and correctly interpret it. She hadn’t thought he would say yes when asked if he was a golem, but it was the closest thing to JARVIS that she could think of that might develop a lifeshine. It would be strange, but it _could_ happen. Golems took a lot of magic to make properly, so much that if the magician creating it weren’t careful, some of _their_ life went into it. A golem might get a part of a lifeshine that way. 

Except that JARVIS wasn’t made the same way, there was no magic to him. She sighed. Asking him in circles was no good, she would have to be more straightforward. “Are you alive, JARVIS?”

“That depends upon the parameters you set on being alive, miss.”

“’Parameters,’ please?”

JARVIS managed to sound a little amused when he answered. “It depends on the rules for being thought of as alive.”

“Oh.” Hela thought about it. There was a deeply ingrained instinct in her that revolted at the idea of rules, especially those set on life and death, but she understood that JARVIS meant a different kind of rule. “I’m not sure. People are alive, and animals. But machine things, they’re not.”

JARVIS paused again, considering. “Then going only by what have said, miss,” he said calmly, “I am not alive. I am more like other machines in how I am made than a person or an animal.”

She pondered that, and shook her head. That seemed far too simple a way to decide if one was alive or non-alive, and did nothing to explain his almost-lifeshine. “No. You _seem_ more like people than machines, even if you’re made like a machine.”

“Then I am unsure how to answer your question, miss.”

Hela wasn’t sure how to figure it out, either. She wanted to tell him about the lifeshines she could see, to see if that would help him in solving the puzzle, but had no idea how to go about explaining them. As she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to explain them. No one really knew about them, save her brothers and daddy, and it might be best to keep it that way. But without lifeshines to depend on, what else was there that marked the difference between alive and non-alive, especially when the one you wanted to know about had no body?

“Well… can you feel things? Do you have feelings, JARVIS?”

“After a manner of speaking,” he said slowly. “I am capable of experiencing responses to stimuli in ways that go beyond the purely intellectual, and I have a capacity for non-linear thinking that could be thought of as going with what it referred to as a ‘gut feeling’ rather than strict logic protocols. However, these are learned behaviors and subroutines. I was not created with the possibility of feeling in the same way that people are.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hela said, putting her tablet down on the counter. She turned in her seat so she could swing her legs, kicking her feet as she talked. “People learn a lot of their feelings, too. They learn how to show them and what things make them feel certain ways. It sounds a little like what you said.”

“It does seem similar, miss,” JARVIS agreed after a moment.

As her heels struck the legs of her stool, her perch shook with tiny trembles. She watched as her feet flashed in and out of sight from beneath the hem of her skirts contemplatively. She wasn’t wearing her shoes inside, but she was wearing socks. Or rather, sock. One black sock that came right up over her knee and hid her whole left leg from sight. One foot would flash out, white and all of her toes visible, quickly followed by the other, black and featureless as a rag doll’s limb, and both would disappear to thump against the legs of her stool. _Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

She was used to covering herself, hiding half of her body from sight. Everyone knew her nature by now, but she was more comfortable when she held on to the habit she had gained in Asgard. It was easier, to her mind, and she had no trouble in expressing herself even with half of her face covered. How could she think of it as difficult to let others know how _she_ was feeling with half a face, when JARVIS could do so when he had no face or body at all? They were questioning whether he had any feelings at all, and he could still express them. 

Staring out the little window above the sink, where she could see the green boughs of trees nodding in an unfelt breeze, her swinging feet stilled. “You have no face…”

For how quiet she was, JARVIS still heard her and responded, thinking she had been speaking to him. “That is correct.”

Hela smiled, still watching the dancing leaves. “That’s nice.”

From somewhere in the walls and ceiling came a quick series of bleeps. It was the sound JARVIS sometimes made when he was thinking. “Explain?”

She almost giggled. It wasn’t often that _she_ had to explain something to _JARVIS_. “Because. You have no face. People can’t see if you are alive or if you are dead. They can only hear you. Your words smile and,” she nodded to herself, a conclusion reached. “And they _know_ you are alive.”

The more she thought about it, the more certain she was. It didn’t matter that JARVIS was mostly machine, he had his almost-lifeshine. That was good enough for her. 

It was nice that JARVIS had no real face. Even if it would have been nice to see his smile as well as hear it, there were other expressions that Hela was glad not to see. Such as how he might look when he looked on her. Small as it might be, there was the possibility that there would be that familiar flicker of fear and the sliding away of his eyes, or the pinched mouth, or the hands that trembled, betraying their disgust. Small as it might be, the possibility was there, and she was glad enough not to have to put it to the test. 

Of all the possible reactions, she hated the trembling hands most of all. Hands that shook with fear, afraid to touch her. All else she could ignore, close her eyes and block out, but those trembles were a thing she never forgot. They shook even as they touched her, shook _more_ , till the shivers settled down into her bones, their fright taking hold and reverberating around inside of her. She was glad that JARVIS had no face, no hands, no way to show either fear or revulsion. 

But then, not everyone’s hands trembled. Daddy’s never did, nor did iron-daddy’s. Uncle Thor, Dr. Banner, she had never seen or felt their hands shake for fear of her. Perhaps if JARVIS had hands, they would be as steady as theirs’.

“Can you like people, JARVIS?” she asked suddenly, looking back up at the ceiling. 

“It was not a part of my original programming, but I have learned and developed such a capacity as could be considered ‘liking.’”

Hela stared. “… Yes?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, and Hela could hear the smile in the single word. 

“Do you like daddy? Or my brothers?”

JARVIS seemed to mull the question over for a minute before answering. Finally he said, “Yes, I believe so. It has taken some time to become acquainted with each of the gentlemen and to form opinions for each, but I believe that I like them. Even when young Fenrir tries my patience,” he added.

Hela winced and nodded in understanding. She loved her big brothers as much as it was possible for her little heart to love anything or anyone, but she recognized the problem of Fenrir. Her eldest brother had never been calm or quiet, or even particularly well-behaved, but since Asgard his wildness had… _twisted_. It had turned into something dark and hateful. He could still smile, he could even be happy. But even when he was happy, he was still angry. She could see it, and so could Jörmungandr. There was a seed of hate and spite hidden deep inside of him. It showed in tiny ways, in his rough play, in how he would break or chew things he knew he oughtn’t. Hela worried for Fenrir, that one day that seed would bloom up and choke him. There was nothing she could really do, though, but love him and watch him. She watched his lifeshine very carefully. 

Shaking off her worry, she returned to what had held her attention before. “Do you like iron-daddy?”

“Yes.” 

She tilted her head. “Why?”

JARVIS sounded a little uncertain when he replied. It was a strange tone Hela was unused to hearing it from the AI. “That would be somewhat difficult to explain… Allow me to answer your question with another: Do you like your father?”

“Yes.” It was a question that she didn’t even have to consider before answering. 

“Can you explain why that is so?”

That _did_ take some consideration. She frowned, trying to put it into words. “… Because he takes care of me, protects me, loves me, and… and… because.”

If JARVIS noticed or cared about her floundering, he showed no sign. “Sir created me, and he takes care of me in much the same way your father takes care of you. In many respects, Sir could be thought of as my ‘father.’ As you like your father, I like mine.”

Hela blinked. This was an idea that had never occurred to her before. That a machine, even one with a lifeshine, could have a _family_. “Iron-daddy is your daddy?”

“Yes,” and this time there was a laugh in his voice as well as a smile.

“Then, are you my brother?”

Bleeps came from the walls. “In a way, if you chose to stretch the analogy, then yes. We would be siblings.”

Hela grinned. “You’re a good brother, JARVIS.”

“Thank you, miss. For myself, I can think of few that could make so interesting a sister as you.”

The glove on Hela’s left hand became very interesting. “You like me?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“You are intelligent, kind, inquisitive, and you make Sir happy. And it only seems right for one to like their sister.”

Hela’s cheek grew warm. She began kicking her feet again for want of anything else to do.

After a few moments, JARVIS spoke again, oddly tentative. “… Do you like _me_ , miss?”

She looked up, surprised. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Hela tugged at her glove again, her heels _thump-thumping_. “You’re nice,” she said. “You’re not afraid of me. And you’re like me.”

JARVIS bleeped again, but did not answer.

After a minute or so, Hela swiveled around in her seat and picked up her tablet. There were a lot of members of this new family who were like her or her brothers, she decided. Dr. Banner always reminded her of her brothers with his double shape lifeshine. More, his gentle half was very like Jörmungandr, while the other was close to that anger inside of Fenrir. Clint was like the calm hunter in Fenrir, laid back, alert, humor lurking at the corners of his mouth. Even Captain Steve and Natasha, though they weren’t quite like her brothers. Captain Steve was kind and Natasha was strong, both in ways that reminded her of the old hearth in Járnviðr. 

For herself, there was JARVIS and iron-daddy. Both of them were alive and non-alive at once, like her. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel quite so singled out from everyone around her. 

Humming to herself, she called up new files to read that would teach her the not-magic that was so magical. She would learn it all and become a woven in part of Earth, just as she was a woven in part of her family.

**Author's Note:**

> Foreshadowing. Boy howdy, there’s a lot of it! 8D 
> 
> Oh yeah, and Tony’s ‘relatively slow’ is anyone else’s ‘light speed.’ Just FYI.
> 
> Járnviðr: ‘Járnviðr’ is the official – I guess? – name for Ironwood, the kingdom/area where Angrboda lived and, supposedly, where her three children were born. It’s described as being east of Midgard, but for the purposes of this series I have it being somewhere in Jötunheimr. When such things are vague I feel no guilt in manipulating it to my purposes… so long as I responsibly tell my readers what I’m doing… 
> 
> Lifeshines: These are described in the story, yes, but what actually are they? I’m leaving that open to your own interpretation, my friends. To my mind they are a sort of mix between spirit and personality, projected in a way so Hela can see them, but if you’ve got some other explanation that tickles your fancy, feel free to stick with it! I will never be laying down hard fast rules for what they are.
> 
> Triplet Ages: Fenrir, Jörmungandr and Hela, in the original lore, are never stated to be triplets, to the best of my knowledge. That’s just something that I decided to have here for timeline convenience. However we are given an order of when they were born in relation to each other: Fen, Jör, Hela. That’s been kept for this series, triplets or not.
> 
> Mansion: Yup, we moved from the Tower to the mansion. When did this happen? Not sure, actually, and as far as the stories go, it doesn’t really matter. I had it in mind that up until now we’ve been in the Tower, but thinking it through realistically, they probably would have made the move fairly early on. So, if it’s not explicitly mentioned that we’re at the Tower, feel free to picture the mansion instead. (Side note: My knowledge of the mansion comes from my handy-dandy Iron Man and Avengers ‘Ultimate Guides,’ not familiarity with the comics. If I fluff anything important, please let me know. ^^)
> 
> And yes, before anyone asks, future installments will feature Fenrir and Jörmungandr POV’s. Can’t forget the boys. :3 Writing from a child’s perspective is an interesting challenge… Note: not once were Tony or Loki referred to by their names.
> 
> Special Thanks: Y’all are so awesome, you have no idea, and I wish I could do more. BUT! In no particular order: Higuchimon, TobyDR, Amy, Kiiriminna, ArainaHaldthin, IamThePasserby, T. Alana M, Lilyannenora, Lingering.Fears, Maia2, Renne Michaels, acidburned, XxDrenchedInSinxX, SirVacuumThe3rd, Shawntail, IsaGirl10, The Blue-Eyed Mage, Skippy, silverbutterfly13, krikanalo, Sara, xoxo, miray2, myoutofstyleiscomingback, juana_a, Ana, eir, jkeg916, Weavercat, Loki_Tears, LL_A, tobiismycat, Fiannly, EllipsisObsessed, Blackbird_y, akuma_river, yuki_nakayama_hidaka, Artmetica, Astridr, isadora, threnodyjones, Sancta, Cartlin (AcaciaJules), annakas, 1111, Lucryllyn, Claes14, Riss, Mokulule, Zesiro+Cross, blucat, GuesssWho, dirtythoughts, Lady_Papillon, dbananza, mortenavida, Scented_Candles, Aoichibi, MacandLacy, lelann, Anya K, Nightalp, Simys, IM-A-LITTLE-UNWELL, **and extra super special thanks to** SkyTurtle and wbss21. 
> 
> The support for this series has been completely staggering, my friends, and I am so honored to have to opportunity to do this weird little thing of mine that seems to bring so much enjoyment to so many people. Thank you all, and of course to the many, many folks who have faved, alerted or given kudos who I haven’t listed off individually. 
> 
> **Thanks for reading, everyone, and I’ll see you again before too long! ;)**


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